


The Part Where You Let Go

by idella



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, XF Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-21
Updated: 2008-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idella/pseuds/idella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was going to get blood all over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Part Where You Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the September 2008 xf_pornbattle on livejournal, for the prompt 'Diana Fowley's corpse.' Thank you to aidy for the beta read.

"What the hell are you doing here, Mulder?"

"I heard you were doing the, uh, the autopsy."

"I am. Was," she corrected, tying off the Y-incision.

Fuck. Proof that she probably wouldn't be alone even in her own coffin. She could scream; really, she could, and here was Mulder, being too damn quiet. He was just standing there wearing the same stupid baseball cap he'd been wearing this afternoon, looking everywhere but at the body.

It was pissing her off.

"Two gunshots to the head," she informed him tersely. She felt for the bald patch, then parted the remainder of Fowley's hair and lifted the head so Mulder could see for himself. She didn't release it gently enough, and it made a soft thud when it hit the metal table.

Mulder jerked at the noise, visibly shaken. Scully relented a little. She put out a hand, then drew it back. It dropped to her side, useless. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I shouldn't have—I know she was your—"

"'Friend'?" Mulder spat out. "You and I are friends, Scully. Diana and I  
were more than friends. I loved her. I made love to her."

"You wanna fuck me, Mulder, is that it?" Scully snapped.

"Yeah, I do," he shot back.

They stared at each other. Scully felt hollow, as if her insides had been scooped out.

"I was in your head, Scully, remember? I know what you want—."

She made a sudden, violent motion with her hand, cutting him off. She could feel her face burning up in spite of herself. Goddamn you, Mulder.

He shook his head, but it was fragile and he couldn't handle the motion. She saw him sway before he could steady himself. She tried to go to him, but he evaded her, edging away so they were on opposite sides of the table. Scully stayed on her side.

"You look like hell, Mulder," she said. "You should be in bed."

"Yeah, well, the only one here is taken," he said bitterly, managing to nod toward the corpse without actually looking at it.

Scully's shoulders sagged. Oh, Mulder. He shouldn't have to be here, making tasteless jokes over Diana's body.

Dana Scully, who had been to Africa and back for this man, who was going to save the world with him, stripped off her soiled gloves and tossed them in the garbage. "Fine," she said.

Mulder knew what she was agreeing to. His hands were already across the table, pulling at the ties on her surgical cap, getting caught in her hair. His mouth was against hers, hot and needy.

He pulled at her too hard and she slammed into the edge of the table at the hipbone. "Fuck," she muttered into his mouth, and he buckled a little at the knees.

She looked down once by accident and saw Fowley's vacant face beneath them. She shuddered and broke away, her heart pounding in her chest. She hated that pounding; there was nothing she hated more, ever since Padgett, unless it was being so far from Mulder's body right now.

A part of her recognized this was a desecration, but that part was far away, and receding by the second. Scully was going to hold onto the living and not let go.

She used the low shelf on the table to hoist herself up. She knelt on Fowley, pressing her body into Mulder's. She was going to get blood all over him. "Scully," he mumbled into her neck. "Wanted to do this for so long—"

Scully pushed him away and slid off the table. For a moment, Mulder had her pinned between himself and Fowley, until she made him give her room to undress. She faced him, hitching herself back up so she was sitting on the edge of the table, her ass nestled against the curve of Fowley's hip. The chill of the metal and flesh was seeping into her.

Mulder was naked now, standing in front of her, pulling at his cock. Scully could see his eyes flicking between herself and Fowley.

"You hated her, didn't you, Scully?" he said. His hand was moving furiously and his breathing was ragged.

Watching Mulder play with himself was making her incredibly aroused. She needed him so badly. And, call her ghoulish, but she'd fantasized more than once about having sex in a morgue.

She twisted around and shoved Fowley off the autopsy table. "Yeah, Mulder, I hated her," she said. "Now get up here and fuck me before I get cold."

END


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